


Forsaken Winter

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Series: Making Enemies Is As Easy As 1, 2... [3]
Category: Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Distrust, Gen, Immortals, Jack Needs a Hug, Light Angst, Not Beta Read, Post-Prison, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26737147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: A spirited spark manages to reignite a long-dead flame, and neither Spark nor Winter know what to do in the face of the inferno sure to come.
Relationships: Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood) & Original Character(s)
Series: Making Enemies Is As Easy As 1, 2... [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1440511
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Forsaken Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there guys! Sorry it's taken such a long time to get this part out (and that this one is so short) - this year has been kicking my butt horribly and I honestly sort of forgot about it for a while! But here's part three (finally) and part four shouldn't take terribly long to write if all goes well. I'm working on it as I speak, lol
> 
> Thanks for sticking around! ♡♡♡

The feeling knotting in Spark’s stomach now was more than just apprehension or anxiety. He wasn’t sure if there was a word for it. It was intense and all consuming, turning his guts to sludge in his abdomen.

He stepped lightly, hesitantly, into the strange entryway that had been revealed by the doors. Each step was halting, slow, as he tried to look around. It was very dark, all things considered, and still just as cold as it had been outside. There was a thin layer of ice on the ground, with a powdery dusting of snow in some places. If he was warm enough he was sure his breath would still fog the air.

He had reached the middle of the room by the time he noticed the marks on the wall. Innumerable tick marks scratched shallowly into the stone, probably with the nearby piece of rock laying, forgotten, on the floor. He started to count them, next step halting as his attention was diverted.

_Five, ten, fifteen, twenty…_

Were these to represent days?

Weeks?

Months?

… _Years?_

_… fifty, fifty-five, sixty, sixty-five…_

A breeze ruffled his hair, startling him out of his counting. After stepping inside, everything had been very still.

He started to look around, and then he heard a light footstep.

He whirled toward the stairs at the far end of the room, and there―

There was Jack.

He recognized him from the descriptions, mostly―willowy and pale, white hair, otherworldly blue eyes, and a blue hoodie. Covered in frost. All that was missing was his staff.

… And the smile.

Now, Jack just looked distrustful and skittish, waiting as if ready to bolt at the first sign Spark was hostile. His lips were pulled into a frown, brows drawn together. His hands were clenched at his sides. He was standing on the balls of his feet.

Rather than taking a step forward, as he sorely wanted to, Spark took a half-step backwards.

Now to just break the silence…

“Who are you?” Jack spoke before he could, voice tinged with cold. “Why are you here?”

And Spark raised his hands, dipping his head a bit, “My name is Spark. I’m here to let you out.”

“Why?”

There was a bit of confusion in his tone, but mostly he seemed guarded. Just this side of sounding angry, really.

“I―”

“Did the _rabbit_ send you?” He hissed, “Because if he did, I’m not interested in whatever it is he has to say or wants me to do.”

“No,” Spark promised, maybe a little more frantic than he needed to be, “No, Bunnymund didn’t send me.”

Jack’s baleful glare did not lighten.

Spark swallowed and lowered his head a little more. Okay. He did _not_ want to get into a fight with Jack. He didn’t. Not just because he was scared, either―the world needed Jack back and Jack obviously needed out of here. He’d been in here too long.

He’d had a lot of time to dwell and let his anger and resentment fester.

“I doubt Bunnymund even knows I exist,” He continued, softly, “I’m barely a century old and this is the first time I’ve left the city on my own.”

“... Barely a century old.” Jack’s voice was quieter this time, and when Spark risked a glance up he seemed a little less threatening, a little less angry. “Why is a _kid_ trying to break me out without Aster’s permission?”

“... It didn’t seem right,” Spark admitted, “And I needed to do something about it. No one else would.”

Jack regarded him for a moment longer, shoulders gradually relaxing and weight shifting back onto the rest of his feet. He cocked his head a bit, eyes sweeping over Spark critically. A moment longer than that, and he seemed to slump a bit.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he wouldn’t actually send someone to let me out, or come to do it himself.” Jack uttered, and the air seemed to get colder all at once.

Spark hadn’t been aware it could get _colder._ He shuddered and pushed his hands into his coat pockets. “They don’t really even talk about you,” He admitted, “Seems Bunnymund would like to ignore what he’s done and… Not have it be common knowledge.”

“If they don’t talk about me, how did _you_ know?” Jack’s brows drew together again, voice guarded.

“Just because _they_ don’t talk about you doesn’t mean other people don’t―my grandmother told me about the fight against Pitch―”

“Your _grandmother?”_

“... You don’t know how long you’ve been in here.” It wasn’t a question.

Spark kind of wanted to scream. Bunnymund had left him in here for _so long_ and hadn’t left him a way to tell the time? Or had he simply been unable to keep track? Either way, it didn’t exactly foster warm and fuzzy feelings for the Guardian of Hope. And to think Spark used to _look up_ to the Guardians…

But this, this was just…

He shook off the feelings, keeping his attention on Jack to the best of his ability.

And Jack furrowed his brows a bit more, frowning once again. “No,” He confirmed, “But if it’s anywhere near as long as it felt like…” He turned his gaze, briefly, toward the tick marks on the wall, “Anywhere near as long as it was _in here…”_

“It’s… It’s been four-thousand years, Jack.” Spark said, as carefully as he could, watching his eyes widen, face going slack for a moment, “Give or take a couple of decades. And that’s― That’s why I came to find you. That’s _horrible,_ I couldn’t just sit idly by and…” He trailed, rubbing the back of his neck, “... I needed to do something, if no one else was going to.”

Jack was silent for a long moment, watching him and probably processing the information he’d been given. Spark tried not to shift under his gaze, to appear as uncomfortable as he actually was―this wasn’t at all about him. This was about Jack, and fixing something that should have been fixed before he was ever even born.

And finally, Jack took a very deep breath.

Blew it out very slowly.

“Thank you.” He said, and it was clear, even with the coldness tinging his voice, that he meant it. “That was… Very brave of you.”

Spark only nodded, in response. Then, eyes flicking over Jack once more, he decided on something.

“... Your clothes look about ready to crumble,” He said, carefully, “I have some extra in my bag that might fit, if you want them.”

As he’d been wearing his enchanted, white set of clothes for most of this trip, he did of course have his black set still in the bag. And since Jack was only a little taller than he was and Fae clothes were notoriously stretchy, they should fit.

Jack studied him a second before sort of nodding. “I’d appreciate that.” He said, with a sort of distasteful glance down at his threadbare hoodie and tearing pants.

So Spark dug into the bag on his hip containing the clothes and produced them, offering them to Jack along with his spare set of boots―just in case. He knew Jack preferred not to wear shoes, but it couldn’t hurt to offer.

The spirit spent a moment studying the clothes before disappearing down the stairs with them―taking even the boots with him. And Spark remained where he was, waiting patiently and shivering a little in the ever-unchanging cold of the mountains. He couldn’t wait to go home where it was _warm._ And to go home with Jack at his heels? That would be… Goodness, he’d be set for the rest of his life, provided the Guardians didn’t decide to come after him for letting Jack out.

Jack came back up after a moment, dressed in the black pants and jacket and even the knee-high boots, face still more or less impassive aside from the mild frown. “Alright,” He said, almost as soon as he’d come over the top of the stairs, “So what now, kid?”

“Well, with any luck we’ll head to the Fae realm so you can get reacquainted with… People… And then you can go back to doing your own thing, if you want?” He suggested, a little hesitantly, “There’s a few faerie rings near the village at the base of the mountain that can take us back, but it’s a pretty long walk and admittedly I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

Jack nodded like that made all the sense in the world. “Fae realm isn’t a bad idea. I probably still have some friends there, if nothing else. You Fae don’t die easy enough for all of them to be gone, even if it has been… Four thousand years.”

“I mean, my grandma doesn’t even look old yet and she’s only a few hundred years younger than you, so.”

“Exactly. And I can get us to the bottom of the mountain in a matter of minutes, so that’s not an issue.”

“That… Works for me?” Spark said, a little blown away by how easily Jack was going along with it now, and still a little surprised he’d put on the boots if he was honest. “I― This is probably a weird question but I thought you didn’t like wearing shoes?”

Jack blinked, glancing down. “... I don’t. Or, well. I _didn’t.”_ He looked away, “Went against the whole fun-loving, wild spirit thing. But I’m feeling a lot less like the Guardian of Fun lately and a lot more like the Spirit of Winter. May as well dress the part.”

“Ah,” Said Spark, because that did make… Some sense, he supposed. Not as much as it probably made to Jack, but enough that he sort of understood.

“Shall we, then?” Jack asked, stepping toward the doors.

“Oh,” Spark jumped a little, turning toward the doors as well, “Yeah, sure.”

They both walked out the doors, stepping out onto the mountain. Jack looked conflicted next to him, for a moment, before his face went carefully cold and impassive. He turned to Spark, opening one arm as if in invitation. Spark hesitated, then moved in and tucked himself close, letting Jack close the arm around him.

The wind picked up fiercely, chilling him right down to his bones since he was already touching what may be the coldest person in existence, and their feet left the ground.

They landed at the base of the mountain, and Jack withdrew instantly. Spark simply blinked at him for a moment, in awe of the sheer control that must have taken because it was as if the Winds simply picked them up and carried them down, and shivered from the coldness as he did. It was no wonder Jack was a Guardian―he really did have every bit of the power they were said to have.

“... It won’t take long for Aster to hear about this,” Jack said, after a brief moment of silence.

“Er, no, probably not.” Spark agreed, shaking himself out of his staring, “We’d best get you to the Fae realm quickly so you have a chance to… Do whatever it is you want to do.”

Jack nodded, following him toward the nearest Ring.

It took a bit of focus, but Spark _did_ manage to wrap them both in the power needed, and then they were off.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this part!
> 
> Next time: Jack and Spark return to the Fae realm, but the worst is far from over.


End file.
